Something to Live For
by KHwhitelion
Summary: Bruce Banner had never considered himself a lucky man. Then he met Tony.


**This was supposed to be a drabble for a meme-type thing on dA...but I got carried away, and it became a one-shot instead. Which I'm fine with. I've been wanting to write some Avengers fanfiction for a while, and about my favorite Science Bros no less. **

**Short, written on a whim, but I still really liked how it turned out. Hope I'm not the only one ;)  
**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Avengers.  
**

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Bruce Banner had never considered himself a lucky man. Growing up, he'd been anything but popular, especially with his short stature and scientific mind. After he'd escaped the horrors of public school, he'd expected life to turn itself around—be recognized for his intellect, ideas and all that. And while he had his moments, people still walked all over him. He'd have been okay with this...routine—unhappy, yes, but the fates had made it _very_ clear he was destined for mediocre recognition and loneliness. Those two things, hand in hand, with no room in between. A standard equation with a standard answer.

But then she showed up; an unexpected third variable that rattled him so harshly his resigned lifestyle came crashing down around him. Suddenly, the shades of gray in which he walked weren't enough anymore. For the first time, Bruce Banner yearned to see the world in color. He yearned to be something more than what he was; for Betty and for himself as well.

The fates didn't like that. Not at all. They had a plan and if he wasn't going to follow willingly then they'd have to _remind_ him. And did they ever. Banner gained a third variable, alright; a giant, green, unstable variable that roared like a lion and threw a punch like twenty men combined. That slice of life only just beyond his reach seemed eons away now; so far were they from him even the previous grays blanketing his world had substituted for the one shade void of any color: black.

Day after day he'd groped around in that soulless darkness, dreading each moment as it passed. When would he lose control? How? Who would get hurt? Who would _die?_ So many questions, so many variables adding to such a complex equation it pushed him over the edge. If the Other Guy hadn't been so adamant about existing, he would've hit the ground a hundred times over.

That's how it used to be, anyway. Before he'd been sought out by SHIELD and his world was shaken yet again by a persistent jackhammer calling himself Tony Stark. Bruce was used to wary eyes and tentative tones, but Tony's welcoming attitude and enthusiasm threw both him _and_ the Other Guy completely off-balance. It wasn't blind idiotic faith (though he tended to project himself that way)—the playboy billionaire was a genius with an intellect just as if not sharper than his own. He knew what kind of monster shy little Bruce kept inside him. He just…didn't seem to care. At all. If anything, he seemed to be a fan. Of both himself _and _the Hulk. Something Banner had _never_ fathomed possible, least of all from a man like Tony.

So unheard of was this, he thought Stark _had_ been pulling his leg at first—making friendly conversation and all that. But time and time again the other man extended that hospitable hand, even going so far as to invite him to Stark Tower when the whole "Tesseract business" was done and over with. He'd been so baffled by the gesture all he could do was smile awkwardly and pass off some nervous comment about the Other Guy not being a fan of closed quarters so high above the ground. Tony just laughed, patting him on the shoulder, before resuming his technical journey through SHEILD's security system.

It wasn't until he'd inquired about Bruce's suicide attempt that the smaller man realized just how much Tony cared for him.

He'd been left alone in the laboratory, scribbling down equations at the table (as the touch screen-hologram-things intimidated him after spending so long in Third World areas), expecting no one as he usually did, when the door slid open and the bearded man stormed into the room; face a blank slate but eyes burning with anxious fire. Bruce assumed he'd go straight for the computers but instead he slammed his hands down across the table with such force the smaller man flinched and his head shot up. "Tony, what—"

"Why did you do it, Banner?" Tony barked, cutting him off.

"I-I'm sorry…?"

The taller man's scowl deepened. "Why. Did you. Try to kill yourself?"

Whether it was the question's abruptness or that _look_ in Tony's eyes, he couldn't tell; his face flushed an uncomfortable scarlet and his stomach twisted so tightly around itself it had probably gone fetal. "I-I…" Breath, Banner. "I told you…I got low…"

"Not good enough. People "get low" all the time; doesn't mean they go around swallowing bullets like they're candy. " Tony's voice was hard, but that apprehension shining in each dark pupil began to seep into the crevices of his face. "Now let's try this again; why did you try your kill yourself?"

There were a million things Bruce would have loved to discuss with Tony Stark; he was as much the other man's fan as Stark was of him. The billionaire's mind was like an encyclopedia overflowing with innovative ideas to better technology and mankind and Bruce's own intelligence craved to know what they were. He did not, however, hold any desire to let him know why he'd attempted suicide.

"Banner. Hello. Right here, look at me."

He jumped again, an abrupt finger snap severing his thought connection. Dark eyes met even darker and Bruce was shocked now by how…frighteningly concerned Tony's features had become. And how very very uncomfortable that made _him_. "Look, Tony, it-it doesn't really matter…I just lost myself for a little while trying to find a cure f-for the Other Guy…I didn't want to live like that anymore so I tried to end it the only way I thought might actually work…" He dropped his gaze, wringing his hands on the table. "Obviously, it didn't…"

He was thankful the other man didn't respond right away. Not verbally, anyway. Instead he sighed—a long, strained kind of sigh—and ran a hand through his hair, pulling out a chair with the other and finally taking a seat opposite Bruce. "Yeah..." he said at last, an almost morose chuckled tacked on to the word. "…obviously. Unless, you know, I'm dead too and this is just some elaborate way to transition me into the afterlife." The bearded man offered a playful smile, before it faded and uncharacteristic solemnity took its place. "In all seriousness, Banner…you shouldn't be thinking like that—that things are always gonna suck and you can't get away from it." He tapped the side of his head. "That's what the ol' brain's for."

It was Bruce's turn for silence; shifting uncomfortably in his seat. "…while that's all nice in theory, Tony," he began slowly "I can't exactly rely on "the ol' brain" all the time, can I?"

"Bullshit."

"…w-what?"

"Bullshit." Stark repeated, sitting up a little straighter. "It's all about conditioning. If you train yourself to think positively about life and whatnot, I guarantee you the Other Guy won't feel the need to come out as often to remind you you've still _got _a life worth living." He punctuated the word "got" with a deliberate finger point in Bruce's direction. Tentatively, Banner smiled back.

"That'd mean I'd have to have something to live for."

"Don't you?"

"I don't know."

"Well then," Tony said, rising to his feet and walking over to join the smaller man at his side of the table. "I'll just have to give you something." He gestured for Bruce to stand, who, though still very much in the dark over what was about to happen, did so. "Bruce Banner," Iron Man continued, placing his right hand firmly on the other scientist's shoulder. "By the end of this whole SHEILD business I want the two of us to be like two peas in a pod—best buds, science bros, yin to my yang and any other touchy-feeling 'BFF' crap you can think of, got it? Live for _that_." Before Banner could gather a coherent reply, Tony took off, leaving the shorter scientist staring, baffled, at the door long after he'd exited.

Bruce Banner had never once dared to consider himself a lucky man.

…maybe it was time he start doing so.

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**Not so sure I like the ending, but again, this was written on a whim. Still...I do love them. So much. **

**Until next time~**


End file.
